Dei of the Dead
by AkatsukiRedCloud
Summary: Hey there, my name's Deidara. Although I've just moved house, I can already tell that something isn't right. Could it be the voice of a certain youth constantly demanding things? Or maybe the blood which seems to run down the walls whenever I was in the kitchen? Or possibly the fact that I am constantly being harassed by a being who may not even exist. Halloween one-shot, SasoDei!


_**Hey guys~ I thought I'd write you a little **_**_Halloween fic, as I don't think I've done one before^^" How was your Halloween? : D I've eaten so many MilkyWays I think I'm going to turn into one..._**

**_Regarding updates to other fics, I'm half-way through a couple of them, so there should be some updates soon, I hope. c:_**

**_This one-shot isn't very imaginative, I just quickly had to think of something to prove to you all that I'm still alive. :''D_**

**_Either way, I hope you enjoy~ :3_**

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><p>Hey there, I'll start by introducing myself. My name's Deidara; a seventeen year old possible female though most-likely male character who has been left all alone in his new home for 2 weeks. I have long blonde hair, blue eyes, and slightly tanned skin. You see, me and my parents had just recently moved into our new house for a new job which my dad had recently taken, which was pretty irritating.<p>

My old house was a pretty new build, only being around 10 years old and having some rather fancy appliances which you wouldn't find in older builds, for example a fireplace which wasn't actually a fireplace, but a screen built into the wall which produced heat and had a moving picture of a fire. Awesome shit like that. However, the "new" house, was anything but a new house. In fact, it was old as fuck. It had a _real _fireplace; who would even do that? Old people, that's who.

Back to the story: even though we had literally moved in a couple of days before, my parents decided they were to visit my grandmother, who decided she would fall down the stairs and be put into hospital for a hip replacement, which in my opinion was rather selfish. Then there was my idiot of a brother, who decided that he'd rather spend most of his free days round his new friend's houses, causing him to never be home.

Lastly, there was me, left home alone. It wasn't as if I had no friends. I had just moved house, it was way too early to make friends! I had hundreds of friends back in my old town, thousands even. Of course, I was the leader of them all because I'm so cool and amazing. That's what they'd call me: Deidara the cool and amazing. Of course, that being a total fucking lie because I actually had about 3 friends who I wouldn't even consider being friends.

Thanks to my mother's OCD, they had already unpacked most of the boxes in a record amount of time, so the house wasn't in too much of a state. Either way, it was still pretty creepy. The house had a thatched cottage style to it, minus the thatch, and just looked too old for my liking. My mother thought it was a nice change, which I strongly disagree to.

Though there was something even worse to the creepy style of the house, and that was the creepy happenings. Sure, the first few times I found childish scribbles on the walls, it was my brother (he's a couple of years older than me, by the way). However as the drawings began to drastically improve, I began to doubt it was him. It was only when the drawings began to get extra disturbing and only began to appear when I was the only one in the house I knew something was up.

And then when the drawings turned into writing, I became even more concerned.

_"Make me some waffles, bitch."_

_"You look so fat in that shirt, give it to me."_

_"Your eyeliner's wonky."_

_"I said make me some damn waffles!"_

To make things worse, I was the one who had to clean up this shit up! No one was home, but if I was to just leave the abusive comments then they'd built up, and my house would look like a giant post-it note.

The best thing to do was ignore the shit which was going on. My brother was off doing brother things, so he wouldn't be returning any time soon, and my parents were still with my grandmother doing parent things, so they wouldn't return either. If I left the house then I'd have nowhere to stay, so I was officially fucked.

I quickly began to ignore the harsh writing on the wall, thanking that whoever was doing it was decent enough to use a pencil, or the occasional washable Crayola pen.

It was only when I was in the kitchen, drinking coffee, when the real weird shit happened. A rumbling sound erupted my desired silence, sending me bolting forward to face the wall behind me. A large "W" came dripping down the wall from the ceiling, in a sticky red substance which could only be described as blood. Staring in a massive state of horror, I clenched my fists when the letter "A" became partnered with the "W", forming a word. I realized what only when other letters were added.

_"W-A-F-F-L-E-S"_

"...This would have been so much more appropriate if you decided to write that in pencil, un." I scowled, no longer all that frightened. "What is that shit anyway?". Whoever was writing the messages clearly wanted waffles, and they weren't getting any time soon. I couldn't even make a slice of toast without accidentally performing a Satanic ritual!

"You're not getting any waffles." I stated harshly whilst cleaning the chipping words off the wall. "Not when you're behaving like this, whoever you are."

"Make me some fucking waffles, bitch."

Was my brother home? Blinking, I scanned the room with confused eyes. The voice came from where I was, in the kitchen. It was as if this person was right in front of me!

"Where are you, un?" I asked aloud, directly to whom I suspected as my brother. "It's like you're standing right in front of me!". Suddenly, a sharp pain was inflicted upon my forehead, as if someone flicked me.  
>"I am in front of you, dumbass." The voice stated.<br>"...This is so creepy, un."  
>"You know what's also creepy? The fact that I can't smell any waffles; get cooking, blondie."<p>

Glaring, I placed my hands on my hips. Who the hell did this thing think he or she was? The voice was pretty smooth and youthful, yet painfully sharp.

"Are you a burglar, where are you?"  
>"I told you, genius, I'm in front of you."<br>"...Get out of my house, whoever you are, un."  
>"It's my house."<p>

Frowning, I backed away to the counter. Was I going insane? I was basically talking to a voice, which was most-likely just my mind playing tricks on me. I figured this was likely, as the voice stopped when I ignored my thoughts and retired to my room.

Weird things continued to happen, and the voice continued to harass me. Whenever I was watching television, the channels would always switch to whatever the "voice" wanted to watch. Whenever I tried to study, I'd have books launched at my head. Whenever I went to take a bath, something would always pull the plug out just before I got in.

This voice was making my life a living hell. My poor cat who had randomly decided to jump out of the window refused to step foot in the house, thus making me even more lonely. I was practically being bullied by something which was probably in my head! Though I couldn't explain the books flying across the room, or that time I had a chair thrown at me for whistling too loudly.

The voices stopped completely after that. No creepy notes, no threats to make waffles, no anything. In fact, I could even admit that I missed the voice's bitchy demands. Therapy was something I clearly needed.

The highlight of my time alone was when I heard a crash from my brother's room, presuming he had finally returned home for a short while. I had been alone this whole time and craved a voice which wasn't from my head, so I immediately headed to the elder blonde's room to greet him.

It seemed that I really had missed my brother, as he had changed an awful lot from how I had remembered him. For example, his hair was now a lot shorter, reaching to the middle of his neck. It also happened to be a crimson colour, which went well with his now pale complex and petite features which were completely different to the ones which I remembered him having, which could only be down to plastic surgery. His eyes were now also a light brown, and he seemed to have had an eyelash extension too. Adding to my brother's new appearance was the fact that he was a hell lot smaller in both height and size.

It was then that I realized there was a possibility that the person before me was in fact, not my brother.

"...Who the hell are you, un?"

The person, who was laying on the bed and reading a pornography magazine which covered the lower part of his face, simply ignored me, continuing to read or stare at whatever the contents were of that certain magazine.

"Hey." I glared, walking into the room and closed the door.

A pair of bored eyes slowly turned towards me, the male letting out a sigh. "What do you want?" He asked in an irritated tone, putting down the magazine.  
>"What are you doing in my house?" I demanded with an angry scowl, approaching the bed. "Who the hell are you? Did my brother let you in?"<br>"...If I say yes, will you leave me alone?" The red-head replied with a smirk, popping his knuckles.  
>"No." I replied, barring my teeth. "Why're you here?"<br>"Your brother has a good porn collection."

What in the fuck was going on? Who the hell was this guy? The male only looked around 15 at the most, probably younger. There was no possible way he would be able to get into the house, as all the doors and windows were locked.

"How did you even get here?" I glared, throwing the magazine across the room.  
>"You seem old enough to know what happens when two people love each-other very much, so work that one out for yourself." The boy replied, sitting up.<p>

Sarcastic little fuck.

"Don't be a shit!" I scowled, grabbing the male by his neck. For some reason, however, this was impossible, as my hand went straight through the red-head's neck, as if he was air.

Well, fuck me.

The boy simply blinked at my horrified expression, biting his bottom lip as a sign of boredom. "Can I have my magazine back please?"  
>"W-What the hell was that?" I cried, going to grab the red-head, only having my hand go straight through him again. "What is this?"<p>

The boy looked human. Yeah, he was pale, but he was definitely human. There was no doubting it. Besides the fact that my hand went straight through him.

"How are you doing that?" I demanded, repeatedly running my hand through the red-head's flesh. He was there, but at the same time he wasn't. I couldn't feel him, but I could see him. I put my hand through his face, chest, stomach, but he just wasn't there.

"Do you mind?" He eventually piped up with an irritated expression. "You're pretty much raping me."  
>"S-Sorry...!" I cried, pulling my hand back.<p>

Wait.

"Why should I be sorry?" I scowled. "Who're you?"  
>"Sasori Akasuna, if you really need to know."<br>"And why can I put my hand through you?" I cried, growing impatient.  
>"How should I know?" He replied with a similar scowl. "You're the one who put your hand through me."<br>"So I'm asking why it went through you!"  
>"I'm not talking to you if you're just going to shout."<p>

All I could do was stare. Could I possibly be imagining this all? It would make sense, seeing as my arm went straight through the red-head, known as "Sasori". What kind of fucking name was that anyway?

"What else should I know about you?" I asked eventually with a sigh, sitting at the end of the bed.  
>"Well, seeing as he basically just had sex, I'd have thought you knew more about me."<br>"We didn't have sex." I growled, growing impatient again. "Be serious. Why can't I touch you?"  
>"Well." Sasori began with a sigh. "I'm a bit like a stripper; I can touch you, but you can't touch me."<br>"So you're a stripper?" I frowned.  
>"Well, I guess. If you want me to be, I'll be a stripper."<p>

"So you're saying the reason why I can literally walk through you is because you're a stripper, un?"  
>"Maybe. It may also be because I've been dead for 20 years."<br>"Ah, that makes more sense."

...What?

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked in confusion, shifting closer to the "boy". "What do you mean?"  
>"Well, I mean what I said; I'm a stripper."<br>"No, after that!"  
>"I'm dead?"<br>"Yes!"

"Well, I'm not alive, that's all. Why, don't you like dead guys? I'd be offended if so, by the way."

So either I had an extremely active imagination, or the being before me was a dead being. A dead being whom had been dead for 20 years, yet looked like a child. A dead being whom had not only been dead for 20 years and looked like a child, but one who I had also apparently had sex with; thus making me a necrophiliac with a hint of paedophilia.

"Some waffles would be great."

I blinked, staring at the red-head. "So it was you with the notes."  
>"Who else but?"<br>"I'm not even surprised anymore."

I literally wasn't even sure if I was dreaming. Why was there a ghost reading porn in my brother's room? Why wasn't I as bothered about it as I should have been?

"So, un..." I began with pursed lips. "You live here?"  
>"Lived, died, you know the story."<br>"...I really don't."  
>"Well, one moment I was living, and the next I wasn't."<br>"How?"  
>"I guess my heart stopped beating."<br>"No, how did you die?"  
>"My heart stopped beating."<br>"But why?"  
>"Maybe it just felt like it."<br>"There must have been a reason."  
>"Yeah, it felt like it."<br>"But why?"  
>"Because it did, now give me your soul."<p>

I quickly jumped back, staring at the red-head with a shocked expression. "E-Excuse me?"  
>"Ah, I'm just fucking with you." Sasori replied with a lazy smirk, leaning against the wall. "Though I could really fuck with you, if you like."<br>"...I'm not going to comment on that, un."  
>"Oh, don't be a spoil sport, this is the first human contact I've had in years! I launched a cat out of the window yesterday!"<br>"That was you?" I growled. My poor cat, Antonio, was scarred for life after he supposedly "jumped" out of the window.

"Come on, let me touch you." Sasori interrupted, completely changing the subject. "I want to touch you."  
>"Stop being such a pervert!" I growled, going red as the ghost bolted forward, running his warm hands over my chest. "Why are your hands warm if you're dead?"<br>"That's just a stupid stereotype." The red-head replied. "I held my hands against the radiator, so they're super toasty."

Trying to ignore how weird this moment was, I closed my eyes, letting the red-head's hands roam my body. "I forgot how fleshy people feel..." He mumbled, poking and prodding my arm. "Take your shirt off."  
>"No wa-<p>

After ripping my shirt off, Sasori continued to run his small hands up and down my chest, fingering my navel like a freak. "Gosh, these things are so cute!" He admitted with a smile, moving his hands lower. "Take off your pants now, I would like to touch your penis."  
>"...Not happening."<br>"Come on kid, trust me."  
>"The 'kid' makes me trust you even less than I already do, un."<br>"Then let me kiss you and we'll take it from here."  
>"Get away from m-<p>

And once again, my words were interrupted by Sasori practically pouncing on top of me, slamming our lips together. Aside from the fact that the only thing I had ever kissed was my pet rock and mother's cheek, the kiss was actually pretty damn good. Like his hands, Sasori's lips were warm and full of life, which was pretty ironic. I couldn't make any judgements, but he seemed quite experienced in the kissing area, especially when he stated that he was a stripper, which may or may not be true as I can still never get a straight answer about.

I let out a slight moan as our lips moulded together, goosebumps forming on my ribs as the red-head ran his slender fingers over them, running his cat-like tongue across my bottom lip, teasingly nibbling it.

He was definitely experienced.

However, as the red-head's hands travelled down towards to my crotch, I quickly pulled away, deciding I was not going to lose my virginity to a ghost who I had just met, despite the fact that I had already apparently had sex with him through the power of unintentional rape.

Letting out a huff, Sasori rolled next to me, fondling my arm and placing a gentle kiss on my shoulder. "You know what would be even greater than sex right now, Deidara?" Raising an eyebrow, I turned my head to face the male next to me.  
>"Yeah?"<p>

"Waffles." Sasori replied in a serious tone. "So get cooking. I haven't had a waffle in twenty fucking years, and I'm not waiting another second."  
>"Was all of this for a waffle?" I cried, sitting up in annoyance.<br>"At first." Sasori confirmed, tugging my arm to tell me to lay back down. "But that kiss was nice, and you're nice, so no, not any more."

I smiled slightly, laying back down again. That wasn't so bad.

"...But I was serious about that waffle thing; now would be a super good time to get me some."

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><p><strong><em>I'm sorry this was suckish guys, it was off the top of my head with no actual plan! D''X<em>**

**_Happy Halloweeen~_**

**_Please review~ :3_**


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